Page 98 of Serial Burn

Kenzie smiled. “Okay. Yeah. We decided on New Year’s Eve. New marriage, new beginnings, new start, new life. All that.”

“Nowthatsounds lovely.”

“So you’ll help me plan?”

“Sure. But what if this person decides to toss a cocktail through your window?”

She held up her hands. “I’m moving in with Cole after the wedding so I’m not worried.”

“Kenzie! Not only is that a year from now, that’s your grandmother’s house you just renovated. Youshouldbe worried.” How was it she found herself on the verge of laughter when her house was in a shambles? Tears pinpricked her lids. God might have allowed the evil that had taken her birth family, but he’d given her people to love and who loved her, people who’d become her family by choice if not by name. She was grateful.

Kenzie slid an arm around her shoulders. “To the bedroom. Pack. I’ll get Lainie to call her brother to come assess what it’ll take to fix the damage. You can call the insurance company later to get that ball rolling. We’ve got this.”

With Kenzie’s assurances ringing in her ears, Jesslyn packed a suitcase, grabbed her go bag, then looked around her room and followed her friends outside. She slid into the passenger seat of Kenzie’s car and made a mental note to check on her own vehicle. Her insurance companies were going to drop her if she had any more incidents, but that wasn’t why she wanted to catch this person. She wanted to look him in the eye and ask him why he’d chosen her. What it was about her that made him turn her into a target.

Yeah.

She wanted those questions answered ASAP.

NATHAN TUGGED THE SLEEVESof his black blazer down to his wrists. Tuesday, Jesslyn had been quiet and moody, but busy on her laptop. Whatever she’d been doing, she hadn’t shared. If the person after Jesslyn had hoped for another chance at her, he’d been sorely disappointed. She stayed in with her self-appointed bodyguards, and thankfully, there’d been no more fires.

Wednesday morning, the day of Brad’s funeral, was overcast, cold, and gray. Seemed fitting. Carly had come to Nathan’s rental to hang out with Eli, and Nathan had picked Jesslyn up from Kenzie’s home. Now they stood back from the gravesite with the other detectives assigned to the case, watching those who had shown up.

Detective Gil Saunders was a good man in his early fifties who’d solved a lot of cases during his years on the force. Nathan leaned toward him. “So you guys don’t think he jumped?”

“We haven’t ruled it out, but no, we don’t think he did.”

Gil’s partner, Miranda Peterson, crossed her arms and shook her head. “The evidence is inconclusive. And he’s got a pretty insistent friends and family base who say no way. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

The size of the crowd indicated that Brad had been well loved and would be sorely missed. His parents and three siblings, an assortmentof cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends from all the places he did life had turned out in droves.

Nathan stood beside Jesslyn, favoring his hip that had decided to throb despite the meds he’d taken. His running after the guy at Jesslyn’s home hadn’t helped matters, and now he was paying for it. It wouldn’t keep him from doing what was needed, but the annoyance put him on edge.

His gaze swept the crowd once more. The family had opted for a graveside service only, and the pastor was mid-sermon with no end in sight. The fat gray clouds threatened to release their bounty while the wind grabbed at hair and clothing with icy fingers. People shifted, pulling their coats tighter around them with gloved hands.

Nathan nudged Jesslyn, and she looked in the direction he indicated. “Has to be students from the math competition team,” she murmured for his ears only. “They wore their uniforms in his honor.”

“Yeah.”

They stood with heads bowed, gazes on the coffin. Morgan and Claymore bookended them. Kenny stood next to Heath and refused to meet Nathan’s gaze.

Jesslyn leaned into him slightly to get a better view, and he got a whiff of her shampoo. Something light with a hint of vanilla. He breathed deep, his arms almost twitching in his desire to pull her close. He resisted. She’d made no response to his declaration Monday.

She shook her head and auburn strands teased his nose. He shifted backward and she looked at him.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked.

“No one really, just trying to memorize faces.”

“You think the arsonist is here.”

“Don’t you?”

“If he killed Brad, then yes.” He paused. “But that’s confusing. What’s the point in killing him? Making sure he couldn’t talk?”

“If he had something to do with the fires,” Jesslyn said, “then grew a conscience and the killer saw that, then ... yeah. If the arsonistdidn’tkill him, then Brad could have jumped because of a guilty conscience. None of that’s out of the realm of possibility.”

“True.”

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